


Late Night

by totalcontrol



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Domlene, F/F, Headcanon, a bit of fluff a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21836362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalcontrol/pseuds/totalcontrol
Summary: Darlene comes home after one of her worst panic episodes and all she wants is the company of someone she can trust and rely on.
Relationships: Darlene Alderson/Dominique DiPierro
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Late Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a headcanon of what might have happened that night after Darlene called Dom in 3x01 when she was having a panic attack. 
> 
> I'm not sure, but I might do a small series of these encounters up to the point of 3x09, if you like this one. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

The night was cold and bleak, much more so than usual. The wind blew so intensely Darlene could feel it piercing through her skin and gnawing at her bones. She couldn’t wait to go home, but then again she didn’t really know what home was, she had never had her own place, somewhere she could feel safe and far away from the outside danger; a place where she could settle and collect little trinkets that would make the place feel truly hers. Home now was merely an illusion created by the FBI; a safe house where she was being watched and kept on a leash. An illusion of safety in exchange for information that forced her to betray her brother’s trust. 

Darlene flicked a cigarette in her hand as she hurried through the streets of New York, inhaling every time she felt her breath was failing her. Dark Army was closing in on her and her brother, andwith it, came the panic. She had experienced today one of the worst episodes she’d had in a while. Merely thinking about it led her to such a state of frustration and rage she cursed repeatedly under her breath, drawing suspicious looks from people walking by.

She was getting closer to the safe house now and her heart couldn’t help but beat faster. All she wanted was to sleep and forget everything; forget the mess she was in, the chaos that always caught up to her no matter what. She stopped at the top of the stairs that would lead her down to the apartment, thinking of the call she’d made earlier during her panic ridden attack. The fear and desperation overwhelmed her so that she had to ask Dom for help. The FBI agent that was personally keeping her prisoner in the form of protection. No matter how much she thought about it she couldn’t understand what led her to make the call; the instinct had been there, waiting, floating deep down in her subconscious, ready to manifest at any point. However, it’s not like she had anyone else either way. She tried to keep the recent events at bay, away from her conscious mind, but they came at her with full force. Tears welled up in her eyes and a loud “Fuck” escaped her lips. At this, she went down the stairs, opened the door and closed it with a loud bang, trying to expel her racing somber thoughts through that one motion. 

She took off her coat and threw it on the couch, immediately walking up to the fridge to grab a beer, which she proceeded to open and drink mindlessly. All she wanted was to forget; forget it all. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to go to bed. Fear threatened her from all the darkest corners of the room; she didn’t want to be alone, not tonight. She couldn’t carry the weight alone, not tonight.

As she tried to accept the the fact that she’d have to console herself again, a loud knock came from the door. Darlene was startled, and anxiety didn’t fail to creep back up; her mind induced with paranoia. Holding her breath, she made herself stand up and walk towards the door to check who it was. Slowly, and slightly trembling, she looked through the eye viewer. When the woman outside the door flipped her long red hair to look in Darlene’s direction, Darlene recognised the FBI agent and let out a long breath. She instantly opened the door, shutting it close as soon as Dom was inside.

“For fuck’s sake, I thought it was the Dark Army.” Darlene uttered with a mixed trace of fear and relief in her tone. Still overwhelmed by the sudden anxiety, Darlene sat on the couch. Elbows supported on her knees, she brought her hands to her head, and shortly after looked at Dom once it came to her, “What are you doing here?”

Dom approached the couch so she could face the other woman, “I just came to see if you’re alright. You seemed pretty upset on the phone, Darlene.” Dom looked at her worryingly, and decided to sit in the armchair next to the couch, “What happened?”

“Fuck, I don’t even know.” Darlene sniffed; the distress was evident as she fumbled with her hands, exchanging between looking at Dom and the floor. “We were at this club and the DA came in. We got into a cab with this random dude, got off at Red Wheelbarrow, and then they spoke alone. Elliot didn’t tell me shit. I asked him about Tyrell, and he said we were lucky we were alive, I don’t know anything, I swear, I—” Darlene’s voice broke down as tears threatened to form in her eyes once more, and she looked at Dom, who moved from the armchair into the couch, closer to her.

“Hey, Darlene. It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything else. I’m not here on record anyway.” Dom moved to take Darlene’s trembling hands in hers, but hesitated halfway when the brunette moved to face her directly, “I was just worried is all.” 

Darlene stared into Dom’s eyes, questioning, trying to decide whether the concern was genuine or not, but concluding that her mind was too cloudy to care for the final judgement. Eyes locked, they sat in silence for a single moment, until Dom broke the contact and repositioned herself further from Darlene. 

“Are you feeling any better since we talked?”, Dom asked as she stood up and slowly paced in front of the couch.

“I am, although I’m still a bit shaken and fucking paranoid that they’ll find me wherever I go.” Darlene said as she rolled her eyes and running her hand through her hair. 

Dom stopped pacing to look in Darlene’s direction, sorrow and tenderness taking over her expression for a split second, “We’re gonna be here 24/7. You know you’re under the FBI’s protection. Nothing’s going to hurt you if you keep collaborating with us.”

At this, Darlene lets out a deep sarcastic laugh, “There they are, the the magic words. _If_ I collaborate with you, I’m supposedly safe, if I don’t act _exactly_ as you wish, you couldn’t care less if I ended up dead. I’m aware of how it goes.” 

Crossing her arms, Dom moves closer and looks down at Darlene, only a small table separates them, “I mean if you run off god knows where and don’t tell us about it there’s no way we can help you.” Darlene’s not looking at her, but rather she stares to her left, out the window, “You know that you’re only free because you’ve decided to collaborate. There’s a lot at stake for you. Believe it or not, I’m trying to show you the easiest path to get through this.”

Darlene sighs loudly, which quickly turns into a frustrated groan. She stands up and moves to the counter to down the rest of her beer as Dom follows her with her eyes, “Do you want a beer?” Darlene asks as she raises her eyebrows.

“Uhm, no, I should be going anyways.” Still, Dom stays, putting her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and not making a move towards the door.

Darlene moves to the fridge and takes out a beer, “Come on, dude, you’re just checking on your CHS. Relax for a bit.” When she approaches Dom Darlene could swear she saw the redhead quickly run her eyes through her from top to bottom, but she brushes it away; she just doesn’t want to be alone tonight. Quite hesitant, Dom ends up accepting the drink and they sit back down on the couch.

Darlene shuffles in her seat and sits cross legged, trying to find the most comfortable position. She looks at Dom, whose already looking back at her, and then decides to look ahead as she confesses, “You know, I get those panic attacks quite often… It’s fucked up. This time, it was pretty bad, I had no idea of what to do.” She stops for a beat, before deciding to proceed, “Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for today. I know I hung up on you shortly after because of the DA, but it’s not always that I even have someone to call, even if it’s a damned FBI agent.” With a smirk, Darlene dares to look Dom in the eyes, catching the redhead smiling and slowly shaking her head. 

“It’s like I told you, Darlene. I’m here to help you.” Dom smiles and keeps softly staring at Darlene until something seems to have dawned on her. She breaks the eye contact and looks for her phone, “Damn, it’s pretty late. I should be getting back, we both deserve some rest.” She puts her beer down and stands up, walking towards the door. 

Surprised at the sudden decision, and not wanting to say goodbye so soon, Darlene stands up after Dom, and follows her, “Are you sure you don’t want to just stay for a while longer?” 

“Nah, I shouldn’t be here anyway. I’ll come later with Santiago to ask you some more questions about your meeting with Elliot.”

“Well, thanks for checking up on me.”

“No worries, that’s my job.” Dom replies as she flips her hair to the side with her hand before she opens the door, “Goodnight, Darlene”, and swiftly, she’s out of the door. 

Once the door shuts behind her, Dom stops for a moment and lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. A warm and threatening wave seems to make itself known coming from deep inside her guts, spreading mindlessly to her chest. She takes a deep breath and decides to not question her body’s reaction, hastily going up to the safe house and filling her mind with any sort of work that doesn’t involve Darlene Alderson. 


End file.
